Danse Macabre
by Beckykins
Summary: Filling in the blanks of season two. "Hurricane Alex, shaking him up like a snow globe." Galex, obviously.
1. Chapter 1

It was her turn to look after him. A girl had died in his arms and she couldn't imagine what he must be feeling. She knew he must be in shock, hell, he'd even let her drive the Quattro back to the station. Calmly and rationally, she'd told him they'd need his bloodied shirt as evidence and asked him to hand over his keys and he hadn't objected, not once. It was strange to see him in such a state, after all, he normally appeared so indestructible. The drive was silent and she hoped he knew she was there for him. Quietly, she'd taken his hand and led him into the office, pulled Ray's chair out from behind his desk and eased Gene's shaky body into it.

"Wait here," she said softly and he'd obeyed. Pouring them both a generous measure of whiskey, she handed him one of the glasses before hauling her own chair out from behind her desk and sitting opposite him. After a long silence, she couldn't bear to see him this way anymore so she decided to speak.

"Why am I here?" she mused aloud.

"Same reason as me. To keep the streets clean and to find this girl's killer."

They were silent for what felt like hours and hours. There was only the soft, muted light from his office, the whiskey in the glasses and the glances they kept sneaking at each other before they realised the other had noticed and they'd both look away quickly, blushing.

Alex had never seen Gene look so sad, so vulnerable, so lost. Knocking back the rest of the scotch in her glass, she placed the tumbler on her desk and, barely noticed by him, she knelt by his chair.

"Hey." Part of her wondered how he'd react but at that moment, she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around him, needing him to know she was here for him, like he'd been there for her so many times in the past. Just holding him, she found herself losing track of time as she finally felt him relax into her touch, despite his heart hammering in his chest. Much as she wanted to, they couldn't stay this way forever. Besides, her back and her knees were killing her from the awkward position she'd managed to get herself into.

"Come on," she said, giving him a final squeeze. "Let's get this shirt bagged as evidence, and then get some sleep, yeah?"

Gene nodded. He was exhausted. He followed her into his office and let her look after him, once again. After finding a clean shirt in his drawer, and with shaky fingers, breathing in little, unsteady puffs, she unbuttoned the blood-splattered shirt and replaced it with the clean one. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

With the blood removed, no longer sticking to his skin, he felt rejuvenated.

"Thanks, Bolls." He forced a smile. "Bed?"

"Yes... bed." Suddenly she felt shattered.

"Drive you home?" He gestured for his car keys. What was he thinking? All of a sudden he felt embarrassed. Going soft on her, letting her drive the Quattro for God's sake! Of course, he wasn't going to let her walk home alone at four a.m. even if it was only five hundred yards down the road. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

She nodded and gave him a weak, watery-eyed smile. "I'd like that."

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He was always saving her. The next day was no exception. Why had he let her go off by herself? She looked dead when he finally found her, hooked up to what seemed like an IV sedative. Why would someone want to dope her? To hurt her? Okay, so often he'd wished she'd just shut up but even he wouldn't resort to such drastic measures. What was it about her attracting nutters anyway?

"Alex. Alex. Wake up. Alex, wake up! Come on, wake up. Alex, wake up. Wake up, Alex! Come on!" He was starting to panic now.

"Am I dead?"

He exhaled, a long shaky breath, relieved. "Not unless I'm St. Peter. And I find that highly unlikely, don't you?" Breathing hard and frightened, but trying not to show it, he glanced at the hypodermic needle in her arm. He was he supposed to get that out? He couldn't bear the thought of hurting her and it looked buried deep in her vein.

She was drifting off again. He needed to do something and fast. What was that shit medical programme she'd made him watch once? Maybe more than once. And maybe he'd enjoyed it. 'St. Elmo?' No... 'St. Elsewhere!' How did they take out IV's in that? Shit, he was losing her; he needed to do something, quickly.

Gingerly, he removed the plaster holding the drip in place and slowly pulled out the line with shaking hands. He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he saw the needle was still attached. Good. It was only then he realised how fast he was breathing, reassured when he saw her begin to stir. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered,

"Good girl. That's my girl."

Dropping the smallest of kisses into her hair (something he'd never do while she was fully-conscious, after all he still feared her left hook and her unpredictable hormones,) he picked her up, much the same as he had the first day she'd breezed into his life. Hurricane Alex, shaking him up like a snow globe.

"Gene?" Her voice sounded tiny and terrified. She was clearly still drugged and scared.

"I've got you, Bolls," he reassured her, taking her quickly up the stairs and to the Quattro.

"Don't let go," she said, before passing out again and burying her head in his shoulder.

"I won't, I won't let go, love," he promised as he gently lay her in the passenger seat of the car. Realising she felt freezing cold to his touch, he shrugged off his coat and laid it over her, noticing even in sleep her fingers still curled into the material, seeking his warmth.

She was still out cold when they arrived back at her flat. Even now, Gene felt petrified as he moved her upstairs and used his spare key to let them in. He lay her tenderly on the sofa and busied himself finding a blanket to wrap her up in. She still felt so cold. Sitting beside her prone body, at a loss for what to do, he calmly stroked her hair, willing her to open her eyes. It was a gesture so gentle he'd normally never let her see it.

"Wake up, Alex," he whispered in her ear. He'd been doing that a lot more recently: calling her Alex. He was thankful beyond words when she finally moved. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, blinking and confused. Almost embarrassed, he busied himself fetching her a glass of water as she pushed the blanket off her, willing herself awake.

"What happened?" she asked, gratefully accepting the water.

"What do you remember?"

She shrugged.

"Doesn't matter then does it, Bolls?" he sniffed. She didn't need to know she'd been drugged and left for dead.

"But you saved me?"

"But I saved you," he confirmed. Playing field levelled after last night, then.

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She looked wobbly. Even Ray and Chris had noticed. As Kevin Hales was driven off in the back of a police car, Gene watched Alex stumble over to some nearby bushes and promptly throw up in them. Ray rolled his eyes and Chris looked unsure of himself but Gene was by her side in seconds.

"Go away!" she shouted, batting his hands away with her arm when he tried to comfort her, breathing hard and embarrassed.

"No, I won't go away, no matter how gross you are right now," he hissed, on his knees and beside her. "I told you not to come with me, that you weren't fit."

She didn't really have an answer for that. Rocking back on her heels and wiping her stinging eyes, she asked, "What happened, Gene?"

He sighed. "You got knocked out, Alex. Drugged. When I... when I saw you, I thought... I thought you were dead, okay?" Taking a deep, shaky breath, he continued, "You have to stop running off by yourself. I can't be a DCI when I'm worrying about where my DI is all the time. If she's hurt or... worse. You'll give me a bloody heart attack, Bolls!" He tried to grin, tried to mask the fear he'd felt but she could read him like a book.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll be less selfish... maybe I can try to involve Chris in a few more things or something?"

"Or something." He smiled, glad they'd come to an understanding. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet as they walked back to the Quattro side by side, so close their arms were nearly touching.

"Okay, pay up." Ray gestured to Terry and Poirot as he loaded a stolen TV into the boot.

"Pay up?" Gene snarled. "What have you bastards been betting on now?"

"How long it'd take you to knock up Drake. That's what the sickness was about, right ma'am?"

Gene had blushed so bright red, he was nearly purple.

Alex tried and failed to suppress a giggle as he launched into a tirade defending her honour. It was almost gallant. Almost.

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Despite her protests that she was fine, Gene drove her home. He insisted on walking her to the front door and then he looked torn: should be return to the station and tear strips out of Kevin Hales or stay and take care of her, make sure she was safe?

Reluctantly he realised his team needed their DCI right now. "I'll be back later. Take care of yourself, Bolls."

"You don't have to..."

"I'll be back later," he promised, leaving her at the door with a little smile on his face.

When he arrived back, hours later, he found her tense, trembling and panicking. He felt useless, showing up obviously far too late with his Atari, 'Space Invaders' and a bottle of German white wine.

"Bolls?" he said as she hugged him fiercely, as if her life depended on it. He tried to peel her off, thinking she must have gone mad. "What's the matter?"

When she drew back he noticed the blood red rose in her hand.

"It's nothing," she said, seeing him look at the flower and snapping the stem in two and discarding the parts in the bin.

He wasn't going to push it any further, not tonight.

"I don't suppose you ate like I told you to? Course you didn't." He gently, but firmly took her by the shoulders and sat her down on the sofa. "*Rest* okay, Alex? God knows what that nutter pumped into your system earlier. Tea 'n' toast, that's what you need, Bolly, that and a good kip."

"Yes Guv." A smile ghosted across her lips.

He liked this. Not that she'd been drugged and was clearly under the weather because of it but... this. He actually liked taking care of her. He found jam and butter that was just about passable in her fridge and busied himself fixing her toast. He took two slices to her and watched her eat in silence.

"Good." He nodded his approval as she finished her food. "Not leaving you tonight, Bolls." His tone plainly told her it wasn't up for discussion. "Not with a psycho on the loose after you." Maybe there was still some residual guilt there.

She didn't have the strength to argue, nor did she want to. It would be nice; she realised, to have someone else in her flat for a change. She tried to push away the thought she could get used to it- if it were Gene, of course. Since when had she been thinking of him like that rather than her boorish, annoying DCI?

"Atari then." She gave him a small, almost shy smile.

"You want to?" he asked, surprised.

"Absolutely. Prepare to be thrashed at 'Space Invaders.'" She'd been obsessed with it when she was younger and was fairly confident she could give him a run for his money.

"Game on, Bolly, game on."

Conversation flowed freely. The video game helped. It was four a.m. and Gene was nearing the final level when he felt the warm weight of Alex's head on his shoulder, her breath warm on his neck.

"Bolls?" He put the joystick down, not caring he was about to be exterminated by aliens... onscreen at least. All he cared about was that Alex was comfortable in that moment. "Come on, bedtime."

He carried her through to the bedroom and she barely stirred, safe in his arms. He eased her body under the duvet, still fully dressed. He didn't think she'd appreciate him taking off her clothes, especially in the morning. He could just imagine the ear bashing. Besides, he didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

"Gene?" she murmured, only half-awake.

"You're alright, love." Once again, he dropped a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, Alex. I'll be right outside, promise."


	2. Chapter 2

"If I don't fight this corruption then I'll never get home. So I'll take them on. All of them. Because I tell you, Luigi, I tell you, one day I will go home. You wait."

Luigi was grateful to see Gene appear at the restaurant door. The kindly Italian was worried about his tenant; he'd seen her in a lot of states but never this hurt or broken before.

"Signor Hunt!" he called, thankful to see him. Meanwhile, Alex had all but passed out at the bar, attracting the dismayed stares of his other lunchtime customers. "Signor Hunt! Please! Signorina Drake, she drink too much German wine. She is... how you say? Paralytic? Legs no work, no?"

"No, legs no work, Luigi." Gene stooped to look at his DI. As far as he could tell she was out cold.

"You take her, yes?" Luigi hovered nervously. "Make sure she no choke on her own vomit?"

Gene gave a curt nod. Putting one arm around her shoulders he was stunned to find himself flying backwards, winded, a stiletto in his stomach.

"Piss off, Gene!" she screamed.

Bloody hell, where had that come from? Increasingly pissed off by her frequent mood swings, he watched as she swayed unsteadily but he was there to catch her.

"Bolly!" he roared. "You're pissed! Time for bed."

"That's your answer for everything!" she screeched. "'Go to bed, Bolls.' 'You'll feel better after you sleep, Bolly.' My. Name. Is. Alex!"

"Signor Hunt," Luigi pleaded. "Take her upstairs. Please. Before the neighbours call the police... again."

"Enough!" In one swift movement, Gene swung Alex over his shoulder and despite her squealing and clawing at his back, he managed to get them into her flat, his spare key coming in very handy once again.

He deposited her abruptly on the sofa as she murmured,

"I'm gonna be sick."

Gene couldn't help but smirk. He fetched her a bucket from under the sink and a glass of water. When he returned she was asleep, fretting restlessly, obviously lost in nightmares. Sighing, he eased himself onto the sofa and cradled her to him, desperate to comfort her. It was so much easier to behave this way when she was asleep, no fear of rejection.

"Want to tell you everything, Alex," he whispered, remembering the last thing she'd screamed at him. "I want to tell you everything."

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"Just... just talk to me. Trust me."

She was staring at him so intensely he thought he might spontaneously combust. He wanted to, God, he wanted to. And he did... trust her. So much. Aside from Sam, she'd been the only person in his life he'd believed in to this extent. After Sam had died he couldn't ever see himself opening up to someone again... and then there was Alex with her big eyes and her vulnerable, sad smile and the way she almost breathed fire when she was mad at him... He wasn't exactly sure where all this undying trust had come from. After all, she was clearly barmy, mad as a box of frogs and he was fairly sure she was insane... actually *insane* but he couldn't help it. There was something about her that was so... real to him. In fact, she was the realest person in his life.

Ever since he'd spent the night on her sofa they'd become closer than ever. His Atari was permanently living at Alex's, apparently forever hooked up to her TV. They seemed to be leaving 'Luigi's' earlier and earlier, forsaking the cheap house wine for cups of tea and cheese on toast and yet more 'Space Invaders.' He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in his own bed at his own house. He felt closer to her every second. This Saturday when she'd fallen asleep on him again and he'd tried to carry her off to bed as normal, she'd protested, telling him she was comfortable where she was. He'd offered to sleep on the floor but before he knew what was really happening he was asleep on Alex's Drake sofa with her slumbering in his arms...

He had to protect her. It would be totally selfish of him to tell her everything and put her in harm's way. After all, look at what Mac had done to Sean Irving. What if Mac hurt his Bolly... or worse... He couldn't stand the strained tension between them anymore either though. He knew it was his fault; it would be him that screwed this up for not telling her even though they were getting closer. That had to mean something, right?

With all the coldness he could muster, trying to avoid the hurt in her eyes, trying not to think about how close they were, how much he wanted to kiss her, to be with her, he just slugged back the rest of the whiskey in his glass and turned away.

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"I'm really proud of you," she told him, once they were safely alone together in the Quattro. She was beaming with delight. "You were amazing, Gene. You were so good with her, so brave. Who'd have thought it? That Gene Hunt would've helped deliver a baby!"

He took a long swig from his hip flask, keen to disguise his shaking hands. It wasn't that... well, it was; emergency situations tended to get the adrenaline pumping, after all. No, it was *her.* seeing her holding that baby had done funny things to his insides. Got him thinking things he'd never even dreamed of before... him and Alex, having a future together... even if it was highly unlikely to happen. Why would she with her near-supermodel good looks want a worn-out dinosaur like him? But the way she looked at him sometimes...

"Gene?"

It was then he realised he'd been staring into space for several minutes. Now or never... He took another gulp of whiskey.

"You and me," he blurted. Smooth, Hunt. Real smooth. "Think we should go on a date."

She grinned. "And playing 'Space Invaders' together every night isn't dating?"

"Not especially, no. Want to? You can pick where we go, like. I just... really want to take you somewhere nice tonight, Alex."

Alex. A little shiver ran through her. He'd used her real name. "Well, it's probably not really your scene, but there's a late night coffee house a few doors from 'Luigi's...'"

"There is?"

"There is." A tiny, shy smile played on her lips.

"I can do coffee," he confirmed. She was right: it really wasn't his style and he hated the stuff (aside from if it was 'Irish,' of course,) but Alex felt like doing it and he wanted to make her happy. "Tonight?"

She nodded. "Yes... tonight would be lovely." She cherished the warm, bubbly feeling of butterflies the thought of going on another proper date with Gene gave her. She chewed on her lower lip, contemplating. "This is our third date... dinner, then several nights of 'Space Invaders,' yes, third date I think."

He frowned in confusion. "What's so special about the third date?" His eyes flickered to hers. God, he could drown in her eyes; they looked almost gold in the twilight.

"There's a goodnight kiss," she informed him.

"And how many dates before..."

She laughed. "I haven't decided yet."

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Bloody Chris and Shaz! Why did they have to go and get bastard engaged and cut short his coffee shop date with Bolly? Gene Hunt was currently sat at his corner table in 'Luigi's' alone and sulking with a glass of champagne, watching his Bolly (and when had he started thinking of her as his? She'd kill him if she knew, bloody feminist,) looking all gorgeous with her sparkly smile, circulating the room. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She had him hooked, for sure.

Eventually, she slid into the seat opposite him, an empty champagne glass in her hand.

"So much for coffee." He pouted, disappointed.

She shot him a mischievous smile. "Late night coffee, Gene."

He checked his watch. "It's after eleven."

"Late night coffee, Gene," she repeated. "Come on. It's open 'til midnight. No-one will notice if we leave now."

His heart soared as he downed the rest of his champagne and gave a brief nod.

Silently, they both slipped out unnoticed into the cold, February night. She shivered and he slipped his arm through hers, earning him a smile, grateful for the warmth and comfort.

The two minute walk was silent and comfortable. The coffee house was deserted and Alex ordered a triple espresso macchiato and Gene indicated he'd have the same, having no idea what to order.

"You sure?" she asked, amused. She'd never even seen him drink Nescafe, let alone espresso.

"Course I'm sure, Bolls."

He insisted on paying and they took their drinks over to the window so they could people watch.

"Sorry I didn't get you flowers," he told her. "I meant to."

She smiled, laughing and raised an eyebrow. "Gene Hunt buys flowers?"

"Nope. Not until you." He watched her knock back the shot in one lengthy swallow and he followed suit... and instantly wished he hadn't. Big. Mistake. The exceedingly strong and bitter taste made him gasp and his eyes water.

She practically doubled up with laughter. "I knew it! You're an espresso virgin!"

"Not a virgin," he wheezed. "I just hate soddin' coffee!"

"Gene, we're in a coffee house. What did you expect?"

"I know... I just wanted to take you somewhere you'd want to go."

Her face was suddenly serious. She was genuinely touched.

"Gene..." Her fingers caressed his thumb, tickling the back of his hand. "Walk me home?"

He just nodded, dumbstruck. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. This time, feeling a little braver, he wrapped his arm around her waist. Smiling, she snuggled closer. So the Manc lion liked to cuddle. Who knew?

When they reached her front door they reluctantly disentangled themselves from each other and she asked, "Do you want to come in?"

He shuffled nervously from foot to foot. "Best not tonight."

"Oh..."

"Bolly." He lifted her chin with his fingers. "Have to do this right. Don't want to rush anything."

She nodded, understanding. There was no need to do anything too quickly anyway. It wasn't as if she was going anywhere fast. She hadn't even had any visions of Molly since Gene had been staying. "Do I get a goodnight kiss?" she asked, almost shyly.

His heart was hammering. Oh so gently, he dipped his lips to hers and kissed her very softly, his hands tenderly cupping her face.

She smiled when they eventually broke for air.

"Sleep tight, Alex."

She nodded, smiling. "Goodnight, Gene. We should do this again."

"Oh, absolutely. No woman could ever resist the Gene-Genie." Then, more earnestly, "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," she corroborated, opening the door and letting herself in. She leaned against the door once it was closed, smiling. For the first time since she landed in the 1980's she felt truly happy and safe.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next week, Gene decided what he liked most about Alex was that she was infinitely kind to people. It was lucky that. He found it difficult to be deliberately nice to people, she could take that particular role in the team. He began to notice more and more how she was always there for the young WPC's in the station, or brought in the new Arthur C Clarke novel for DC Terry to read and told him to keep it, or even when Chris got all shaky over that dead rabbit it was Alex who was there to take care of him.

That and she was beautiful. And funny. She made him laugh. And she was intelligent. Granted, she was occasionally shrill and always stubborn as a mule and she seemed to pick more fights with him now than ever before... It drove him mad but secretly he loved those arguments, watching the fire burn in her eyes, knowing he'd caused it... not that he'd ever tell her.

There had been three more dates over the course of the week. He'd taken her to dinner and then to the cinema and finally to a football match. It had been her first and she was surprised to find she actually enjoyed it, especially when he'd flung his arm around her shoulder to keep her safe in the crowd on the way home.

He loved dating her; absolutely loved it and he knew he was falling for her fast. Normally, he'd pull back but her draw, the hold she had over him was much too strong. Previously dating had been a means to an end for him, the prelude to a quick shag and countless women he'd got bored of very, very easily. Not with Alex. He wanted to wait and not to rush things and he loved spending time with her, just the two of them, alone.

Then there was the dilemma of Valentine's Day. It was still early in their relationship and he didn't want to scare her off by coming on too strong. He'd ended up in a card shop for the first time in his life feeling like a right Southern softie. When the day itself rolled around, they'd had a long and exhausting day at work and it was hardly ideal timing, but nevertheless, he'd showed up on her doorstep with the customary stuffed bear, a card and her favourite chocolates (Shaz had told him she liked 'After Eight's' best.) She'd opened her door with no makeup on, wearing leggings and her least shapely, most oversized jumper. Embarrassed, she tried to hide her face but he stopped her.

"Don't... you um... you look beautiful, Alex."

She blushed and handed him the card she'd bought him, apparently keeping it next to the front door on the hall table just in case he showed up. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to... exchange cards," she said, almost shyly. Once he'd handed his card over and she'd opened it she couldn't help but smile. It read like he'd never written a card in his life: 'To Alex,' then signed, 'Gene –x-.' Her forefinger fondly traced the little 'x' of the kiss.

"I'd better be going," he said, "It's late." Since they'd been dating, he hadn't been staying over, not wanting to push his luck or for her to get the wrong idea.

"Yeah." She nodded, exhausted. "Thanks for the bear."

"Glad you like him."

She leaned forward for a kiss. He still could hardly believe his luck whenever she did so. Things were definitely progressing and fast... Gene wasn't scared, not at all.

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It was funny that whenever there was an emergency they both kicked into auto-pilot. Call the ambulance, administer first aid, and collect the witness statement...

It was only when the ambulance driving Charlotte, the little girl who'd been hit with the petrol bomb, pulled away, that Alex realised how hard Gene was shaking (even though he was trying to hide it).

"Come on." Her head very slightly inclined to the underpass they'd stood under with Ruth Irving just two short weeks before. How much their relationship had changed since then.

"No time to snog you, Bolly," he said, trying to sound glib. "Police stuff to do and all that."

Her hand closed over his arm. "I'm not asking."

"I wasn't aware you were in charge, DCI Drake," he snapped. But he let her take him away so they were out of sight of the others: CID, Forensics, Plain Clothes... now it was just them, alone.

She hesitated for a second before taking him in her arms and he found comfort there. She knew how much the pressure of being a DCI got to him sometimes although he rarely showed it and only ever when they were by themselves.

"Are you okay?" she asked, stroking his hair.

Her heartbeat, surprisingly slow and steady, a calm oasis, soothed him. "Course." His voice was muffled by her shoulder and he didn't fool her for a second, he knew it. He pulled back to look at her face, to glance her over, desperate to make sure she was okay for himself. "It should be me asking if you're okay."

"I'm fine, Gene," she reassured him, her hands cupping his face and her lips planting a gentle kiss of comfort to his. "It's you that's shaking." She took his hands in hers but he quickly shrugged her away. She tried not to feel hurt, knowing he disliked any real display of emotion. "It's okay. What happened to that little girl was horrible..."

"It's not that," he retorted. Didn't she get it?

"What is it then?"

He heard the panic rise in her voice.

"It could've been you!" he roared, his hands bracing himself against the grubby wall, breathing hard with anger at his situation. Once he had composed himself a little, he repeated, "It could've been you." He couldn't bear the thought of her hurt and he also couldn't bear the thought of her thinking him weak for feeling this way. What he was feeling was beyond what he had ever felt for a work colleague before, even Sam. Hell, it was beyond anything he'd felt for anyone before, including his ex-wife... well, especially his ex-wife. Suddenly, it hit him. Was this what love was? All he knew was he'd do anything for her even lay down his own life if necessary to make sure she was safe. The thought both terrified him and made him ecstatically happy in equal measure.

He felt her hands on his shoulders, his body submissive as she turned him to face her. "I'm okay, Gene," she repeated. "I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

"Well, you shouldn't have to."

She knew his statement should have enraged the feminist in her. Anyone else but him and she would have been angry. It didn't. She loved the way he protected her.

His hands tangled in her hair as he leaned his forehead against hers and they both closed their eyes. He said so quietly that she could barely hear it, "You're my girl."

She nodded, hardly perceptibly, her eyes still closed. "I'm your girl," she confirmed. "Always."

They stayed that way, his skin still against hers, his hands clutching at her. He realised this was probably the most intense experience of his life so far. Better than sex- well, better than all the meaningless sex he'd had anyway.

The spell had to break sometime, it had to. Fenchurch East CID needed their DCI and their DI back and firing on all cylinders.

"Come on," he said, cupping her face in his hands and feeling stronger.

She nodded and stole one last kiss, drawing strength from him. Dark times lay ahead... she knew it.

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She knew something was wrong as soon as he walked into 'Luigi's.' He was way too quiet. The way he looked at her when she called him 'The Lion of Fenchurch East...' He finished his pint and announced he was going home. Worry chewing up the pit of her stomach, she managed to escape ten minutes later, murmuring something about being tired as she scrambled for the door.

He was waiting for her halfway up the stairs to her flat, chain smoking furiously. He stubbed out the cigarette as soon as he saw her approach. He felt like they'd been apart forever.

"Mac's sending me away... Plymouth," he said almost inaudibly. He was scared to death of losing her.

"Oh, Gene..." She cupped his face and kissed his nose. She didn't dare let him see how much the thought of him being 200 miles away frightened her. She needed to be strong right now. They both did. "We'll figure this out, I promise you, but first you need to rest."

"Just need to go home first, get a change of clothes and... some stuff." It was unspoken that they would be spending the day together. "I'll be ten minutes," he assured her.

"I'll get the kettle on. Tea right?" There was half a smile on her face as she remembered their disastrous date to the coffee house.

"And a bacon sandwich? Ta very much."

She nodded. "Yes, Guv."

She smiled when he let himself in, coming in with his overnight bag. His sandwich and his cup of tea were already waiting for him. It was all so... domestic. Normally, letting a man this close to her after Pete she'd be running for the hills, but with Gene it all just felt so right.

They ate in relative silence, grateful for one another's company.

"I need a shower," she said.

Feeling revived by the bacon, he bit back a comment about joining her.

"Then I need sleep," she continued, yawning. "You coming to bed?" She tried to sound nonchalant but the butterflies were back.

He nodded, a little stunned. This was a big step. "To sleep," he confirmed. "Yes." The Manc Lion was flustered.

"Cool." It was something Molly would say. "I'll leave you enough hot water. Put your things in the bedroom." She kissed him and then was gone, taking her cup of tea with her.

It felt strange... being in her room. It was intrinsically her. He hung up his suit and then sat awkwardly on the bed, unsure of what he should do next. Alex emerged ten minutes later wearing a fluffy, navy blue robe, towel drying her hair. Suddenly she felt self-conscious with no make-up on and all raggedy hair. She needn't have worried; he was mesmerised by her, seeing her like this.

"Snap." He rifled around in his bag and he produced a very similar dressing gown, same texture, same material. It was then he noticed she looked exhausted, the strain of the last few days etched all over her face. "Go to bed, love. Gonna shower, then I'll be right in."

She was under the covers and dozing before he even left the room.

After his quick shower and shave, he changed into his own dressing gown. He found her fast asleep in bed, laid on her stomach. Smiling, he slid under the covers next to her. She whispered something incomprehensible and went right back to sleep. Mirroring her position, he slipped his hand into hers and despite the extreme anxiety of their current state of affairs; he immediately fell into a blissful slumber...

Hours later, as it was getting dark, they both awoke. Alex had rolled over onto her back and had tucked her head into his shoulder.

"Hi." She smiled at him.

"Hi."

It was her that leaned across to kiss him. It was finally happening...


	4. Chapter 4

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms, tracing little patterns across one another's skin... Gene kept wondering when he'd wake up from this wonderful dream, what he'd done to deserve this gorgeous woman in his arms. He was in love with her.

Earlier, he'd felt her shiver and insisted on helping her into his robe. It was massive on her and now she was lying in his arms, smiling and looking like a little happy ball of fluff. Her hair was tickling his nose and he inhaled the sweet scent of her shampoo. She smelled like cherries and he was pretty sure it was ridiculously expensive.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked, shyly, looking up at him with her impossibly huge eyes.

"Course." He dipped his head to kiss her again softly, wanting her to be able to tell him anything.

"You were only my second."

"What?" He sat up a little, surprised.

Refusing to meet his eyes, she continued, "Well... there was my ex-husband and then there was you. Second."

"Oh, sweetheart," he chuckled and it was such a rare sound to come from him. "Why didn't you tell me? Before, I mean."

She shrugged.

Thinking for a moment, he asked, "What about your Thatcherite Wanker?"

"He couldn't."

"What? Was he blind?" Kissing her again, he told her, "Well, I wanted to let you know it was perfect." It was the truth, it had been. He had never felt so connected to anyone before. Normally, he'd be reverting to a Caveman state: quick shag and then piss off. This time it was different, he wanted to stay.

She sighed. The fairytale had to end sometime. "We have to show our faces downstairs," she pointed out.

He groaned. "Do we have to?"

"Yes. If we want to nail Mac we have to plant this bug. Figure this out... tonight."

He knew she was right. Even if now he knew he'd want to spend every waking second in bed with her. If he wanted to stay here with her and not end up in snottin' Devon they had to focus and find a way to keep their hands off each other. "You're right."

"Oh, I'm always right." It was her turn to lean up and kiss him. Eventually, she moved to get up but he stopped her.

"Wait, Alex, I... I got you something." Slightly discomfited, he searched through his overnight bag and eventually produced an extremely warm-looking beige and white poncho. "I saw this the other day and thought of you. I just got the impression you'd been feeling the cold lately, hell of a lot warmer than that ridiculous leather jacket you insist on wearing..."

"Gene!" She flung her arms around his neck, stopping him mid-ramble. "I love it, thank you, this is so thoughtful." Her enthusiasm was so intense she ended up dragging him back into bed again.

"Steady on, Bolls, you were the one saying we had to get up."

"Yeah, well... maybe another half an hour."

"An hour."

"Deal."

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They promised each other they'd stay up all night to brainstorm ways to bring down Mac and get Gene out of going to Plymouth.

That had lasted an hour and Alex was the first to cave. She wandered around his desk and sat on his lap (not that he protested too much), her legs over the arm of the chair and him cradling her close to him.

"I could stay like this forever," she murmured, feeling so safe in his arms.

"Nah, not here." He kissed at her temple. "In our bed."

A little shiver of delight ran through her. He'd said *our.* She wondered if this meant he had moved in but she didn't want to spook him by asking, so was silent, a rarity for her.

Instead, she questioned, "What now?"

"We wait," he told her, his chin leaning against her shoulder. "And hope."

"I hate to be negative but what if it doesn't work?" She brushed some hair out of his eyes, he looked tired.

"Don't want to think about it, Bolls, can't think about it." After what had happened between them earlier the thought of living without her was even more unbearable.

"Well... what if, what if I came with you?" She didn't want to scare him but she didn't want to live without him either and she needed him to know that.

He looked at her. "You what?"

"Well, would you want me to?"

His breath hitched and his answer was instant. "Of course I'd want you to, you daft cow! I'm just wondering why on earth you'd want to come with me."

The look she gave him told him everything.

"No, he told her, point blank. "I won't let you throw away your career because of me, Bolls. You're the only female DI in the Met and you're destined for DCI someday. I'm not going to let you."

"Shut up, I don't care about that stuff. I can transfer. There's Dartmouth or Exeter, maybe even Plymouth itself." She gave him a little nudge and a hopeful smile. "I'd be okay, Gene. You're... the only thing that makes any sense to me. All I know is I want to be with you and I don't care where we are."

2008 Alex Drake would have been disgusted. Following a man across the country like a lovesick puppy.

"Be sure, Alex," he said quietly.

"I am sure."

He held her until they were both asleep. Maybe, just maybe Devon wouldn't be such a bad idea if she was with him. It was there, holding each other, that the team found them the next morning and when all hell broke loose...

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Alex! Alex!" he roared as he chased after her. He knew he'd screwed up royally this time. He hadn't, had he? Like he said to Ray, he couldn't have, surely. He'd gone to Manchester a week after the Price car bomb. Alex had been in a right state, she wasn't eating, and he'd been extremely worried about her. He'd only been gone for one night and he made sure Shaz went to check on her and make sure she wasn't alone until he got back. So surely he couldn't have got that drunk. In fact, he'd spent the night thinking of Alex and drinking himself into a stupor over the whole situation, cursing himself for being a coward and not asking her to come with him... that's when everything got hazy. He didn't remember anything after that.

He found her outside... wait... smoking a cigarette? What the hell?

"Piss off, Gene," she snarled, her voice laced with hurt and desolation.

He recognised the lighter and the brand, 'Benson and Hedges.' The silver ones. It was obvious she'd nicked them from Ray.

"I went to Oxford. I worked in the Met, don't look so shocked," she told him. "Before I had Molly I smoked, okay?"

"Well I've never seen you."

"I haven't felt the need to... until now."

She threw the half-finished cigarette on the ground under her shoe and stomped on it violently, imagining it was his head. Or at least Jackie Queen's, after all, the woman had ruined everything.

"Did you like it, Gene?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. "Did you think you were saving me, is that what you liked? Someone you could screw until you got bored?"

"No..." He went to interrupt her but she was in full meltdown mode and she was the most stubborn woman he'd ever met.

"It was the week after the car bomb, wasn't it? Even though you knew how upset I was. How you pretended to care about me. God, I was in my flat, crying, missing you so much and you were off shagging some Glaswegian skank without a second thought for me!"

"Bolly, I'm sorry..."

"Don't call me that! Don't you dare tell me you're sorry, you don't even mean it!" She was so enraged she nearly flew at him with her fists. "I thought... I thought we had a future together."

"We do."

"No, we don't." Her eyes narrowed with malice. "I can't believe I slept with you. I can do better. I can do a *lot* better. Don't come near me again, Hunt. We're through."

She didn't look back, not once, as she angrily stalked into the station.

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He had to see her. Hell, he was crazy without her. At first he'd tried to resist, he knew where he wasn't wanted. But he found himself here and banging on her door. "Bolly! Bolly! Come on, let me in!"

"I told you, I don't want to see you, Gene!" she snapped. Deep down, she knew she had no right to be angry. They hadn't been together when he'd gone to Manchester; it wasn't like he'd cheated on her. He could sleep with whoever he wanted to, even if she was a Scottish harlot. Plus, she'd said some horrible things, things she didn't mean. Much as she'd tried to deny it or fight it, she was in love with him. She had been for a long time and last night (and was it really only last night? It felt like a lifetime ago,) had only sealed it for her. She'd gone to bed tonight, early and sulking but soon got up because she couldn't sleep without him by her side, holding her and keeping her safe.

"Look," he said through the door. There was no way he was going to give up on this, on them; he'd stand here all night talking if he had to. She'd have to come out eventually. "The kid isn't mine. Jackie was winding me up. I'm sorry, okay, Bolls. It's you I want, it's only been you since the day I first clapped eyes on you."

In an instant, she had flung open the door and was in his arms, melodramatically sobbing in true Alex style, saying she was sorry over and over.

"Don't leave me," she pleaded with him.

"Of course I'm not leaving you, you daft tart." Still holding her in his arms, he guided them to the sofa. If it had been anyone else, he'd be moping and unforgiving. But this was Alex and she was different. "I should've taken you with me to Manchester. Told you how I felt about you then."

"I'm sorry... for what I said." Her voice was muffled by his shirt but he could tell she was beginning to calm down. "I l..."

"Sshhh... there's a time and a place, Bolly. Tonight isn't it."

She nodded, understanding. He was right. If she said it tonight he'd think she'd only done so because she felt guilty. They could wait.

"So... we're okay?" she asked tentatively, not believing how much she'd managed to screw this up. She was always overreacting to things, always looking for a fight. That was the main reason her marriage to Pete had been over so quickly.

"We're okay," he promised. "I Can't live without you. God knows why. You're *really* annoying."

She sniggered and curled around him, still shaking with emotion.

"I was jealous," she confessed. "Of you and her."

"Why?" he asked. He swore to God he'd never understand her.

"Because of how much you cared about her..."

"You dopey mare, it's *you* I care about, no-one else. When I thought about having a baby with her it made me feel sick to my stomach."

"You don't want kids?"

"I don't want kids with her." He looked into Alex's eyes. "I always figured I wouldn't be a good dad: drink too much, smoke too much. To be honest I just never thought about it... until you. Until I saw you with that baby in the woods a few weeks back."

Alex was dumbstruck. He waited a few moments before continuing,

"So there was no need to be jealous, Bolls. You and me, like I said, we're unbreakable."

She sighed and smiled. She wanted to believe him, share his optimism. But what if there was something, lurking, just around the corner and waiting to tear them apart?


	5. Chapter 5

They spent the next two weeks in a euphoric state of blissful happiness, despite how unlikely that had seemed just a few short weeks ago. They were discreet at work, of course. Gene had made it perfectly clear he didn't want the rest of CID to know about them and Alex understood. He was a private man, she got that and she wasn't going to force him to do or say anything he wasn't ready for. Secretly, she quite liked keeping them private too. It was just him and her away from idle gossip and prying eyes she knew revealing they were a couple would bring.

At home he was so different to the rude, gruff DCI persona he put on at work. It was like the mask had slipped. He was sweet and kind and considerate of her feelings. He didn't make a mess and he didn't use all the hot water and on the nights where they didn't eat at 'Luigi's' because they just wanted to be alone together (nights that were becoming increasingly frequent,) he helped her wash up (even if he did insist he washed and she dried and he never let them swap.) It was something she'd never expected, a pleasant surprise. She would have thought he'd be somehow 'allergic' to housework but he was actually quite domestic.

One night, they were left by themselves in CID.

"Coming to 'Luigi's?'" he asked, dropping a little kiss on her shoulder when he was sure no-one else was around.

"Not tonight." She forced a weak smile. "You go ahead, I, um... I have cramps." She left her explanation at that knowing he was a man and that he was Gene Hunt and he definitely wouldn't appreciate details.

"Oh..." He hesitated, not knowing how to handle this situation and wanting not to upset her. He knew what women were like when they had the decorators in, especially when they were provoked. "Come on; let's get you home then, cup of tea and a hot water bottle, that'll set you right." Maybe, just maybe he'd been reading her girly magazines that she'd left lying round the flat.

"No, go to 'Luigi's' with the others, I'll be alright."

"No, Bolly," he reiterated. It was hard to tell which one of them was more stubborn. "I want to be at home with you." And it was the truth.

"I won't be good company," she warned him, "I just want to watch 'Fame' and sleep."

"That doesn't matter; I can watch 'Fame' for the fiftieth time, as long as there's booze involved. Come on."

He helped her to her feet, silencing any more protests and put his arm around her waist, supporting her, his hand warming, soothing and comforting against her back and not letting go until they were back at the flat.

"Go and get into something warm." He gave her a little shove towards the bedroom. "There's a good girl."

"Yes, Guv."

When she returned there was a cup of tea waiting for her on the coffee table, two aspirin by its side and Gene was just finishing making her a hot water bottle. He'd also laid out the knitted blue blanket on the sofa, ready for her to curl up under.

"Thanks," she said, genuinely grateful as she took the hot water bottle from him. "All this... it's really sweet."

"The Manc Lion is not sweet, Bolly, he just knows how to look after his girl, that's all." He trusted that she wasn't talking about them around the station, not even to Shaz, but if she were and they weren't going to be a secret forever, he wanted to make sure he came out of such conversations in a good way, surprise everybody.

She leaned up to kiss him. "Thank you. Now go. Have a few drinks with the boys, relax."

"No." He settled her on the sofa and put the blanket over her. "Think I'll stay here." The truth was Gene didn't want to go without Alex. It wouldn't be any fun and he'd only worry about her.

"Well, do I at least get a cuddle?" she asked audaciously, knowing how much he hated it. He liked to 'sit normally,' side by side on the sofa at night. If she was lucky he might consent to hold her hand.

"Don't push it."

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Gene knew this Drake case had been hard on Alex. She hadn't told him what was going on but he knew something was tearing her apart inside. He couldn't stand the thought of her hurting, he couldn't stand the thought of the woman he loved being in pain and having to keep secrets from him, no matter how irrational and whatever it might be, he could handle it.

Alex herself couldn't sleep at night. She couldn't even hide the dark circles under her eyes from Gene anymore, no matter how much makeup she used to cover them. What if there was a way home to Molly? That's what she wanted, wasn't it? Her little girl needed her, she couldn't intentionally choose to be away from her, she was only 12 years old and Molly needed her. She desperately needed Molly too; being without her was driving Alex insane. Even if the thought of leaving Gene did break her heart and that's the reason she wasn't sleeping.

She'd been tossing and turning since midnight when she'd gone to bed with Gene. He'd kissed her goodnight and then left her to rest in his arms. He didn't want anything else tonight, only for her to sleep.

At 3:00 a.m. when he felt her moving around in his arms again, he stirred.

"Alex?" He sat up and blearily wiped his eyes, turning on the bedside light.

She looked guilty. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

"You're not sleeping, love." His voice was warm and comforting, there was no malice there, and he wasn't annoyed, only concerned. Okay, maybe he might be a little angry if come morning she'd disturbed his sleep... again, for the third night in a row. "Is it this thing with the Drakes? I don't mean to pry, I just hate seeing you upset, that's all."

She wanted to cry, it was all so unfair. This amazing man really cared about her. "I know them, well, I knew them. A long, long time ago, they don't remember me."

He nodded, he'd suspected as much. "You know now you've told me I'm supposed to take you off the case, you're too personally involved."

"I know."

"'Cept, I don't follow rules, me. Got kicked out of the Scouts and everything."

That at least earned him a weak smile.

"Please try to sleep, Bolly." He flicked off the light again and drew her to him, hoping to soothe her, offer her some comfort.

Her head still whirled with thoughts of Pete and Molly and 2008. Gene would have been so fantastic with Molly, she knew it. He would've made such a natural dad. She could just imagine them together now, thick as thieves, letting Molly get away with blue murder... How could she possibly choose between them?

An hour later, when she'd accidentally kicked Gene *again,* Alex decided it was high time she got up and did something productive. The Drake case. She could draw energy from that, surely, get a head start, go to the station, brainstorm. She could leave Gene a note, it would give her time to think, get some much needed space right now...

Halfway through her getting dressed, Gene woke up and she inwardly cursed.

"Bolls?" His voice was groggy and laced with sleep.

She crouched down to kiss him and smooth his hair, knowing she shouldn't be mad at him. This wasn't his fault after all. "I can't sleep. I'm going to the station, run some theories..."

"'Kay. Love you."

There it was. He'd said it. As if her choice wasn't hard enough as it was, then he went and said he loved her. How could she possibly leave him after he'd told her that? She knew she'd have to go back to Molly given the option and part of her selfishly hoped the situation never arose so she didn't have to do what she knew she must and leave this wonderful man.

"I know, I love you too."

Forcing herself to move and wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed with Gene again and sleep, she left for the office. She took the Quattro, knowing Gene would insist on it at this time of night even if it was her driving it and it was only a five minute walk.

It was then Martin Summers appeared to ostensibly give her answers...

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No. she'd made up her mind. This was not the right way to get back to Molly, not like this. It wasn't like she was choosing Gene and 1982 over her own daughter, was it? She sent 'Boris' away and sat by herself at the bar, trying to catch her breath. Soon, Gene was by her side, his hand touching her gently and subtly between the shoulder blades, offering her comfort.

"Is it over?" he asked softly. "Whatever you've been hiding." Again, he didn't sound angry, only apprehensive, trusting her implicitly.

Alex let out a long, shaky breath, her heart aching. "Yes, it's over."

"Good." His hand tentatively reached out to caress her back again, soothing her, not caring who saw. Even Luigi was looking at them with knowing eyes, the tender gesture so foreign to anyone but them.

"Coming upstairs?" she whispered, somewhat redundantly. She didn't know why she was asking exactly, he'd been living in her flat for over a month. One Sunday, he'd told her he was going out 'To see a man about a dog,' (which had worried her- surely he wasn't really getting a dog, was he?) and he'd arrived a few hours later with a couple of suitcases and just moved in himself and all his stuff, without so much as asking (it wasn't like she minded much, in fact, she was delighted.) "Want me to go first?"

"Nah... let's go together, screw it."

Alex was thrilled by his display of boldness. She followed him out of the restaurant, both of them ignoring the cat calls of CID. She was still grinning when they got inside.

"Got tired of hiding it," he explained. "Doesn't mean we get to snuggle in the corner of Luigis' though."

"No... No of course not." Alex needed him to know they were on the same page. "Professional. Tactful. Absolutely."

He was the one to initiate the cuddle and it surprised her. She could feel the relief coming off him in waves. Had he really thought he'd lost her to Martin Summers?

"Promise something," he said. She'd never heard this tone of voice from him before; he sounded so raw and vulnerable.

"Okay." She didn't know where this was going; he'd never held her like this before, either.

"We won't leave each other." He looked into her eyes. "You won't leave me for that Boris wanker."

She could promise him that at least. "I won't leave you for Boris."

"Good. 'Cause I meant what I said before, it wasn't the sleep talking."

A shiver of emotion ran though her. She knew how hard this must be for him. ""Yeah, yeah I know."

Evidently he wasn't the only one having trouble saying those three words...


	6. Chapter 6

"You've gotta stop scaring me like this, Bolly," Gene told her when they were safely outside in the fresh air after she'd fainted in Donna Mitchell's kitchen. Once they were stood by the Quattro, him still holding onto her just in case, he looked her over. "I'm taking you back to the station. Get you checked over by the police doctor."

She made to protest but he silenced her with,

"No objections. It's an order from your senior officer."

"Yes, Guv."

The drive back was silent, Gene trying to hide how truly concerned he was about her. Back inside and carefully hidden in the corridor outside CID, he took her face in his hands, searching her face, her eyes. Then he kissed her forehead so tenderly she thought her heart might burst she was so in love with him and might have told him had Ray suddenly not appeared with a dismayed look on his face.

"What?" Gene snapped, suddenly the DCI again rather than Alex's concerned, caring boyfriend. "You never seen anyone kiss anyone else before, DS Carling?"

"I've never seen *you* kiss anyone else before, Guv," he pointed out before slithering past his senior officers, apparently bound for the evidence room.

Alex raised an eyebrow playfully. "This mean I'm special?"

He scoffed. "Maybe."

He stayed with her the entire time while the doctor checked her over, once again the thoughtful, anxious partner, despite how uncomfortable she knew it made him.

The doctor frowned as she looked at a sample of Alex's blood under the microscope.

"What?" Gene asked, worried.

"You're very anaemic, DI Drake," Doctor Brannick informed her. "You need iron tablets and a lot of rest."

She wrote her a prescription and despite Alex telling Gene repeatedly she was fine, he insisted on accompanying her to the pharmacy to collect her tablets.

"Things will change," Gene said as they waited for her prescription, suddenly her DCI again, reading her the riot act. "Nine 'til five only, less drinking, decent bedtimes..."

Alex nodded, just to placate him. She had no intention of doing any of those things. "But I still get to raid Riley's office later with you, right?"

Infuriating woman. How did she always know what he was thinking?

"If you insist, Bolly, if you insist..."

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"Guv! Guv! Riley heading your way!"

Shit. He had to make a split second decision. Could they fit in that stationery cabinet? Be decisive, Hunt! Yes, they could if they squeezed up close together. And he liked being squeezed up close to Bolly... very much. Taking her hand, he began pulling her towards the cupboard.

"Gene!" she hissed in dissent, panic shining in her eyes.

"Oh be quiet, DI Drake, you're my girlfriend, nothing we haven't done before." There was a wicked glint in his eye.

It sent her to jelly... girlfriend. He called her his girlfriend. It worked. Before she knew it she was squashed up with Gene in the pitch black, breathing hard and possibly in mortal danger. How did she get herself into these situations? It was because she loved him, she loved him and she trusted him more than she'd ever trusted anyone in her life. He was looking at her as if to say 'Stop thinking so loud! You'll get us caught.' So he kissed her instead and she let the blissful non-thoughts take over. It was only when she was with him she was totally relaxed and at peace, despite their current predicament. She hoped he knew that.

She tasted of peanuts and of chocolate. Damn woman had been eating 'Marathons' again. He hated them and he hated peanuts but it tasted irresistible on her. He was hooked. Addicted. Addicted to Alex Drake, his DI, and he couldn't stop, no, he wouldn't ever stop. She was his future, he was sure of it. Not this case, not Operation Rose, not even the Met. Her. He'd give it all up in a heartbeat if she asked him to. He tried not to be scared by that thought. He'd run away with her tomorrow; elope if he thought for a second she'd say 'yes.'

"Guv! Guv, where are you?" Once again, the radio crackled to life.

Gene cursed. They were dead for sure now.

"Guv, where are you?" Ray's voice on the radio continued. "Riley left five minutes ago."

Neither of them had noticed.

"You shagging in there?" They could practically hear the leer in Ray's tone.

"No, we're bloody not!" Gene informed him testily via the radio. "Actually, DI Drake and I are in a filing cabinet."

Alex couldn't help but giggle. It was almost endearing. If Gene Hunt could ever be considered endearing...

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He found her cowering behind the sofa, crying silent tears. Maybe this was what a nervous breakdown looked like; she certainly looked broken.

"Bolly?"

She scuttled away from his voice, flinching in fright.

"Bolly, it's me."

Exhaling in relief, she scrambled towards him, hugging him tight until she heard his sharp intake of breath and gasped in shock on seeing his black eye.

"Gene, what happened?" Her fingers tenderly traced the bruise.

"They lay a finger on you?" he asked. All he cared about was that she was okay.

"I'm fine... they killed our 'Atari!'" She couldn't help the sob that escaped her lips.

"Sshhh... Bolly." He pressed a finger to her mouth. "Don't cry. I'll buy you a new 'Atari', a better one."

"Where are you hurt?" she questioned.

"S'nothing." He was trying to act manly but it was blatantly an act.

She wasn't fooled for a second. "Is it your ribs?"

He hissed in pain when she pressed her fingers there.

"Gene, you need a doctor."

"I don't need a doctor, just you, love."

She helped him onto the sofa, unbuttoning his shirt and taking a sharp intake of breath herself when she saw the ugly, purple bruises that were already beginning to form. She quickly busied herself, finding a forlorn-looking, split packet of peas in her otherwise empty freezer, wrapping them in a tea towel and quickly and gently placing them on his damaged ribs, apologising when once again he groaned with the pain.

"Sorry," she murmured again. The bruises frightened her, more seemed to be appearing before her very eyes. "Will you at least think about going to your GP in the morning?"

"Don't have one. I never registered down here. The Manc Lion doesn't get sick, Bolly."

It was so typical of him. So stubborn, so tough. Her rock.

"No, of course you don't."

There was a moment of silence.

"Don't worry, Bolls." He needed to protect her, not let him know how hurt he really was. "Nothing will happen. I love you too much."

This time he wasn't sleepy. He meant it and he was fully aware he was saying it.

"I know. Me too. I love you, too." Tears ran from her eyes as she laid her head on his black and blue chest.

"Hey, what's with the waterworks? Unless you're sobbing with joy because the Gene Genie told you he loves you." Then, his brash persona was gone in an instant. "Never told anyone that before and meant it. Ever. Just feels so right with you."

Alex nodded. "I know, I feel the same."

She continued to hold the frozen peas to his ribs in spite of how cold her own hand was getting, taking care of him and kissing him soothingly.

"Anything else hurt?" she asked, still upset.

He resisted the urge to make a lewd comment. This wasn't the time or place. Not tonight. She didn't deserve that. Not that it had ever been about that with her, just sex. He was pretty sure he'd loved her since the first moment he'd clapped eyes on her. Of course, she was really, *really* annoying and she made him angrier than any other woman he'd ever known, but soon he realised it was just an outlet for his unfamiliar feelings. Not just because of the outfit, well, the outfit helped a lot with the initial attraction, but... Actually, he loved her best when she had no makeup on, on a Saturday morning when she was lounging around in her pyjamas. She was beautiful.

"No, nothing else hurts," he reassured her. With much exertion, he went to the kitchen and put the now-defrosted peas into the bin. Since when did they eat healthy things like vegetables anyway? Must make more of an effort to do that, to take care of Alex... He'd been rifling through a medical textbook in a quiet moment at work that he'd stolen from the sick bay and vegetables would be good for her anaemia.

"I'll buy you more peas," he came out with lamely. Christ, he was nervous.

"It doesn't matter." She advanced towards him, smiling shyly, nervous herself too. They knew they loved each other now and this was unchartered territory. "At least let me get you some aspirin and warm milk, it'll help you sleep."

"Okay." He kissed her. There it was again. She was the most caring, kindest person he'd ever known. She must be an amazing mother to her daughter. It pained him to think of them separated. He'd like to meet this Molly. He wondered where she was...

"Go get into bed, I'll be there in a minute."

He found himself obeying, speechless. As he got changed, his head spun. She loved him and he loved her. He might have a broken rib, but at that moment he felt high.

She followed five minutes later, carrying two mugs and aspirin for both of them.

"You sure you're okay?" he questioned, concerned.

"Yeah." She knocked back the tablets, both at once. "Just a little shaky. Emotional, you know."

She was too exhausted to change so she crawled into bed, still fully clothed. "Is this okay?" Normally she'd try harder. Silky nightshirts and the like.

"You look beautiful, Alex."

Hesitantly, not wanting to hurt him, she curled up against his shoulder. "And is this okay?"

"Stop asking if everything's okay, everything's fine, everything's... perfect." A little smile played about his lips.

She smiled back, her hands tracing about his face, feeling the same. "I know... I know."


	7. Chapter 7

He couldn't tell exactly when the gaping chasm between them opened up. One day it wasn't there and then the next day it was. It was the size of the Grand Canyon at least. If not Hell's Canyon.

It wasn't the night of Viv's birthday party, that was for sure. When he'd seen the gold lamé number his eyes had nearly popped out of his head.

"You like it?" She tried to act innocent as she put on her black eyeliner.

"I love it, Bolls. You look bloody gorgeous."

She smiled, glad he approved.

"But you know," he began tentatively, not wanting to upset her or for her to get the wrong impression. "You don't have to dress that way all the time. Not for me, love. You could go in your 'Snoopy' pyjamas and you'd still be the hottest thing on two legs." Normally, he was the sort of man that thought the fewer clothes the better on a woman but Alex didn't have to try, she always looked stunning in his eyes.

She smiled again, appreciating his chivalry. "But you like it." It wasn't a question.

"Course I like it."

Gene had to pinch himself regularly to make sure this wasn't all some crazy dream. The last week had been blissful beyond belief. Hell, they hadn't even made it into work one day; they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Gene Hunt was even cooking. Getting Alex better was top of his priorities list ahead even of Man. City and catching the scum of Fenchurch. It was working. She was getting well again, she looked less pale and she didn't look so exhausted once five o'clock rolled around. Finishing time was strictly enforced. He loved taking care of her. Not that he wanted the team to find this out, of course, he may have gone soft and fallen totally in love with his DI but no-one needed to know this.

In fact, Gene Hunt had done something truly terrible by his former standards. He'd stolen one of her costume jewellery rings and sloped off down to the jewellers. She'd never say 'yes.' Not in a million years. Also, he wanted to ask the permission of her father first (assuming he was alive, she never talked about her parents,) or at least Molly first, however condescending she would find it, he was still old-fashioned that way. It was far *far* too soon. Maybe in six months. Maybe. Yes, Gene Hunt had bought an engagement ring. Just in case he couldn't help himself any longer and he came out with 'Marry me!' And on the off chance she agreed he'd be ready.

They felt closer than ever. He even (begrudgingly at first,) assented to cuddle at night on the sofa. The Gene-Genie discovered he liked to cuddle... only with his Bolly, of course. They hadn't spent a single night at 'Luigi's' in weeks, it was like they were in their own little world where no-one else mattered but each other.

By 10:00, Gene was getting restless. He hated sharing Alex, especially when the Fenchurch West lot were involved. He'd much rather be snuggled up, them, together on the sofa or in bed, warm and safe. He didn't like the looks one of the DS's was giving her or the way the DI was flirting with her, topping up her glass with champagne and occasionally touching her arm. Time for the Manc lion to mark his territory...

He went to her, stalking over and glaring at the other DI. Possessively, he curled a hand around Alex's waist, kissing her jaw and whispering in her ear, making it *very* plain they were together and she belonged to him. The other DI quickly scuttled away.

"What was that?" Alex asked, amused. She smirked. "Were you jealous?"

"Did I need to be?"

"He's not my type, Gene."

"Well, neither am I!"

"Clearly I haven't been with enough men to have a type." She closed her eyes, listening. "I love this song. Dance with me?"

Gene felt somewhat panicked, terrified even. Dance with her? Here? In front of everyone, including the idiots of Fenchurch West? Sure, he didn't mind if they were by themselves in her flat and it was late and they were both pleasantly tipsy and she'd ask him to dance with her to 'Spandau Ballet' or some equally sappy shit but... here?

Then he saw Ray making his way over, a little worse for wear. He didn't want Raymondo's paws all over his Bolly either. Really, he had no choice.

Feeling rather nervous, he downed the rest of the champagne in his glass. "You're on, Alex."

ABBA. 'Fernando.' How clichéd. He loved, however, that everyone was watching, that they knew she was his. He still wasn't thrilled about the dancing part but he could get used to this. Maybe he could test the water...

"How do you feel about getting a cat?" Oh, very suave, Genie! Not at all awkward. He almost rolled his eyes at himself.

"With you?"

He swore he felt her hand tighten its grip on his. Maybe he wasn't the only one who was tense and that calmed him to some extent. "Yes with me. How do you feel about it?"

"Well... I don't really like cats..."

"Oh. Stupid then, forget it. I just fancied getting something, together. That was just for you and me. Ours."

Thinking for a moment and wondering why she was so afraid, this was Gene after all, her rock and her constant, she said, "... But I think perhaps if it was our cat and it was really nice I might love it."

He grinned at her. "Really?"

"Really. But maybe we should start smaller."

"Smaller? Like a hamster?" Gene wasn't much keen on them.

"I hate rodents too." A brief memory of a little girl, Molly possibly, and an evil, golden hamster with red eyes they grew to call 'Satan.' His real name had been Fluffy. "Smaller. A goldfish."

"Yeah, we can get a goldfish together." He hugged her tight. A goldfish. That was a start...

888888

Maybe the chasm started the night he came home to find her furiously scrubbing something out of her leather jacket at the kitchen sink. It was late, after midnight and she was distressed and close to tears, claiming it was coffee when he asked. It clearly wasn't coffee; in fact, it looked like blood to him. Blood and not quite set concrete, nothing fooled Gene Hunt, after all.

"Bolly?"

She ignored him, continuing to scour at the concrete with a nail brush rather uselessly. She'd at least need a scrubbing brush to get the worst of it out, that was if the jacket could be saved at all.

"Bolly?"

"What?" she snapped. Her hands were red raw under the freezing water but she hadn't noticed.

"Come on, love, you'll hurt yourself." His voice was calm and quiet, like he was talking to a spooked, runaway racehorse. Slowly, he reached out to turn off the tap.

Not missing a beat, she turned the tap right back on again. No man told her what to do, even if she was in love with him. Not anymore.

"Bolly... are you in trouble?"

"Ha!" she barked and then choked back a sob. She would not cry. Satisfied her jacket was as clean as it could be, she shook it out, startling Gene and covering them both in water droplets.

His nails dug into his palms, willing himself to keep calm and not react. Normally he wouldn't make so much effort not to lose his temper but this was his Bolly and he was going to try extra hard for her sake.

"I really need some space tonight, Gene," she said quietly and sadly. "I need some time on my own to think."

"And where the bloody hell am I supposed to go?" he finally snapped, causing her to flinch. "I rented my house out to the Kapoor's from the corner shop, Alex!" His hand clutched the little velveteen box in his coat pocket like a life raft.

"Stay on the sofa." Her voice sounded unnaturally serene, dead almost.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You promised you wouldn't leave me."

Her heart broke for Molly; that was the problem. What would Molly think if she knew her mum had helped cover up a murder? Alex could picture the disappointment in her daughter's eyes, Molly's face suddenly clear as a bell in her memory. "I can't leave, Gene... and that's the problem."

888888

She stood by him. All day and all night, the entire time with Chris.

After it was all over, she went home and he eventually followed, not sure if he should. Whatever he'd done, hell, whatever she'd done, he needed to make this right with her. He decided that tonight he would propose. At least it would show her how serious he was about them. He even bought her flowers, Bollinger champagne (unsurprisingly,) and her favourite chocolates.

He knocked, not knowing if she'd appreciate him just waltzing in there. After all, she'd never officially asked him to move in, maybe that's what had upset her. When she answered the door she was wearing a silk robe he'd never seen before. She looked shell-shocked, shaky and her eyes were rimmed with scarlet.

"Right, you need a drink."

He let himself in without being invited. Shit, he was nervous. He'd been drunk when he'd proposed to his first wife; he was stone cold sober now.

He passed her a glass of champagne. "You and me, Bolly. You and me." He chinked the flutes together and drained his in one. He looked at her. Something was wrong, her eyes looked dead. Afraid, he asked, "We're okay, aren't we?"

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. "Not especially, no." Staring hard into her champagne, she told him, "I think I might be pregnant, Gene."


	8. Chapter 8

Time stood still. He couldn't breathe, speak, hear or see for the longest of moments. Then the world was back, in glorious Technicolor... all too bright. Alex was sobbing and he didn't know how to comfort her. She looked devastated and he wasn't entirely sure why. Was the thought of having a baby with him really so abhorrent to her?

"H... how?" Was all Gene could eventually manage to stammer.

Her head snapped up and she looked furious. Like a wild animal. "What, you want me to draw you a diagram?"

He probably deserved that. Fighting to keep calm, he pointed out, "But we were careful."

"Not always, Gene. There's a difference between mostly and always."

Shit. This was his fault. He went to light up a cigarette but his hands were shaking too much. In anger, he threw the lighter across the room, making her jump. "I'm sorry." He moved towards her slowly, afraid of frightening her more. "I'm so sorry, Alex."

"Please don't touch me."

That broke his heart. "Bolly... I know this is a shock..."

"This isn't a discussion." She took a deep, shaky breath. "I won't know for a few days, I can't test until I'm a week late."

"Okay." If he could break this down in his head into rational, logical steps he could get them through this. Just like solving a case, nothing different. "You know... maybe you're not."

The look she gave him nearly cut him to shreds. "I'm never late."

Of course she wasn't. That was so typical of her, everything had to be perfect.

"Well do you want me to marry you?" His heart fluttered in the hope she'd say yes. No problem. Then they could do this properly. It might not be ideal, but they loved each other and he was determined to make this work. They could get married and move into a little house together and everything would be fine. Okay, maybe he was a little apprehensive at the thought of being a dad but with Alex by his side he felt invincible. He always had since she'd waltzed into his life.

But it wasn't fine. In fact, it just seemed to make her cry harder. "This isn't the fifties, Gene." She paused, and then said sadly, "We're not ready for this. *I'm* not ready for this. I should be focussing on getting home to Molly, not having an affair with you."

Her words slashed through him like a knife. Was that all he was to her? Just a fling to pass the time? Didn't she mean it when she'd told him she loved him? Didn't they stand in this room barely a month ago and hold each other, promising to never leave one another?

He didn't know what to say so he told her the truth. "I love you, Bolly. With all my heart. Nothing will change that."

Equally, she didn't know how to react. Abandoning her glass, words stuck in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to go to him and have him take her in his arms and make everything okay.

"I'm going to bed. I'm tired."

She didn't specifically tell him not to follow, so he did. She was already in bed when he slipped under the covers next to her. He needed things to be alright, he couldn't live without her. Tenderly, he reached out to touch her back, but she tensed at his touch and moved away. She had never flinched at his contact before...

888888

The next morning when he awoke after a restless night, she wasn't there. It was only six and she was already gone. He searched the flat for her and when she wasn't close by it frightened him. She always left him a note if she was going out and she always signed it, 'I love you. – A – x.'

He found her at the station, lost in thought and stirring an extremely stewed cup of tea. It was early so they didn't have to worry about being disturbed. They had to talk this out and now.

"How are you, love?" he asked by way of greeting.

"Still no decorators," she snapped angrily, throwing the teabag into the bin.

"I..."

"That's what you meant, wasn't it?"

"No it wasn't." Again, he was battling to keep his cool, his temper growing more and more frayed by the second. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"Don't worry, your little team will never know." Her knuckles were deathly white; she was gripping the kitchen counter so hard in anger. How could she have been so stupid?

"That's not what I care about." His voice sounded low and dangerous now. He was rapidly nearing the end of his tether.

"Well don't worry, there is no baby."

"But you said..."

"Or there won't be."

"What?"

"I'm not keeping it. I can't keep it; I need to get home to Molly..."

Before she knew what was happening he'd grabbed her and pinned her against the fridge.

"What did you say?" White hot anger burned in his veins. There was no way he was going to let her do this.

"You heard."

"No." He tightened his grip on her. "You're not going anywhere."

"Get off me." She shoved him hard as Ray, Chris and Shaz entered CID, shocked at the fury blazing in both their senior officer's eyes.

"Drake." His voice was a deep growl. "Don't you dare walk away from me. I swear to God I will kill you if you do this."

She left anyway, the rest of the team's eyes following her, speechless and stunned. None of them had ever seen their DCI so enraged... until now.

888888

He was like a man possessed, consumed. He'd screwed everything up. He'd failed to keep her safe and now he'd probably lost her forever. All he wanted was her, he didn't care anymore, whatever she wanted was fine by him, he'd stand by her and he'd support her, every step of the way.

As the day wore on and she didn't come back he'd grown more and more frantic. He'd been angry before at her, but he wasn't anymore, he was just mad at himself for not handling the whole situation better. Always charging in 'Like a Bull in a China Shop,' that's what Alex was forever telling him. Alex. He must have phoned her 15 times but she hadn't answered. Scary images flashed through his head: what if she was lying hurt in a ditch somewhere?

Eventually he'd sent Jeanette away, sickened with himself. He needed to make this right with Alex, no matter what. He had a plan and he needed to put it into action. Tonight.

She hadn't changed the locks so that was a good start. He was quiet because she was sleeping. That would help her; she needed her rest, after all. He kissed her softly on the lips, being careful not to wake her and leaving the note he'd written her in an envelope on the bedside table. Finally, he placed the gift he'd bought her with great care on the kitchen worktop and let himself out. He had to stop Operation Rose and then they'd talk...

Alex awoke with a start the next morning, her hand flying to her lips. She'd dreamed Gene was here. She felt awful; she knew she had no reason to be scared or to be treating Gene this badly. After all, she loved him and although this had been a shock she thought she could get used to the idea of having a baby with him, maybe of building a future here. Molly felt further and further away every day, after all, she could barely see her face anymore. Being away from her daughter would always break her heart but maybe she didn't have a choice anymore, perhaps the choice was already made for her. Maybe she was already dead in 2008.

Her eye was suddenly drawn to the letter on her bedside table and her heart jumped with hope. She recognised the handwriting instantly. So he *had* been here, it wasn't a dream.

She ripped open the note excitedly and read:

'Alex,

I love you and I only want to make you happy no matter what. Wear what's inside this envelope for me. I'll see you later, after, stay away from Operation Rose; I want you to be safe.

Gene.

P.S. There's someone in the kitchen who wants to meet you.'

The ring had fallen out of the envelope onto the duvet. Smiling for the first time in days, she held the silver circle in her palm and made her way through to the kitchen, curious.

Gene had carefully placed a little goldfish bowl in there and he'd obviously taken a great deal of care to set everything up. The tiny fish was hidden underneath a ceramic bridge in the water. Gene had sprinkled gravel over the base of the bowl, placed a small pot of fish food by the side and even wedged a miniature plastic plant within the stones. Another note was tucked under the aquarium.

'I'm calling him Bubbles. Marry me.'

Alex could have cried with joy.

"Of course I will," she whispered out loud to no-one, happy tears in her eyes as she slid the engagement ring onto her finger. It took all of her resolve not to phone him right at that second, but she knew he was snowed under with the gold bullion case and it wasn't fair to distract him. Besides, she wanted to see his face when she told him yes. They were going to be so happy together.

Lovingly laying her hand across her stomach, for the first time she truly hoped she was pregnant, that she was having Gene Hunt's baby...

888888

He never missed. He'd been the best target shooter at Hendon, 1964 and even had a trophy somewhere to prove so. In fact, his training officer had said Gene Hunt was the best and most accurate he'd ever seen on the shooting range...

But he'd missed this time. The target had never moved before though. Until now. Until it was his Bolly, bleeding her guts out all over the pavement.

"No," was all he could choke out. He knew he'd lost everything in one instant, in one split second: there was no way the super would let him continue as DCI- Alex... maybe worse.

He was by her side in a second. It was starting to rain. His hands were on her stomach, pressing down hard, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. There was too much blood; his Bolly could die here, bleeding into the pathway. He was vaguely aware of a lot of screaming and yelling. Ray, Chris and Shaz, he wasn't sure. All he could focus on was Alex, pale as a china doll.

Her eyes opened. God, her eyes, he'd hoped their baby might inherit them.

"Gene..." Her voice sounded so tiny and far away.

"Sshhh... sshhh... don't try to talk, Alex." He pressed a finger to her lips.

She was crying now. "I l-"

"Sshhh..." he instructed again. She never did listen to him. "Don't tell me, tell me later." He linked his hand with hers. "You're wearing the ring. Does this mean..?"

"It does." She was fading. He was losing her. "And we're having a baby."

"We are?" Despite the grave situation, knowing she'd changed her mind made him deliriously happy. If she survived, if the baby survived, they were keeping it. They were going to be a family. "How about 'Dylan?' If it's a boy."

"It's nice."

Then she slipped into blessed unconsciousness. The rain continued to fall. Gene clung to her hand and kissed the engagement ring there. So she *had* said yes. That was something. That and the fact she was still breathing, her heart was still beating, loud and strong.

They still had a shot...


End file.
